by Robin Caroll
Danielle glanced to the commander, who nodded at her. “What were they doing at a rental property?”
“According to the deceased’s employer, Tim Dubois, he and his board of directors had hired Game’s On You to create a customized game to help them determine which of their four employees under consideration for a big promotion would be most likely to succeed in the position. Mr. Dubois stated that he was aware that the deceased’s ex-husband was a partner in the company he hired, but until Mrs. Thibodeaux’s death, he was unaware that her ex-husband was the person who actually created the game.”
“Interesting.” Commander Ellender shifted in his seat. “Continue.”
Danielle nodded. “Following Louisiana directives, the hospital ordered an autopsy, which was conducted by Dr. Kelly Shannon, a physician pathologist, at approximately 9:00 a.m. on Friday. Cause of death was determined to be anaphylactic shock. Next of kin, the victim’s mother, Monique Fredericks, indicated the victim’s extreme allergy to cherry juice. Toxicology confirmed the victim ingested cherry juice that brought on the anaphylactic shock that killed her.”
“Homicide by allergy—that’s a new one.” The commander wore an expression of fascination. “Go on.”
“At approximately 10:00 a.m., the case was turned over to field medicolegal death investigators who oversaw the CSI unit at the house on Esplanade Avenue. All evidence was collected and the scene cleared by 1:00 p.m. A shot-sized bottle of an energy drink was open on the desk in the room the victim had been staying in. Tests run on the liquid left inside the bottle detected trace amounts of cherry juice, which the ingredients don’t list. We’re waiting for the manufacturer to confirm that. The victim’s purse was recovered from the scene, and an EpiPen was inside, unused. Tests run on the pen show that it was as dispensed from the pharmacy—untampered with—and would have worked as prescribed. Anna Belle Thibodeaux’s death was marked a homicide and turned over to the NOPD. My partner and I were next up on rotation, so we received the case.” Danielle paused.
“Please keep going, Detective.”
“Yes, sir.” Danielle tossed Brandon an apologetic look. “Following initial interviews with all persons at the Esplanade Avenue house, we learned that several people recalled seeing an argument between the deceased and her ex-husband, Grayson Thibodeaux. The incident in question happened approximately two weeks ago at Mr. Thibodeaux’s business, Game’s On You, during which they not only exchanged harsh words, but the deceased slapped Mr. Thibodeaux. This was witnessed by several people. Many heard the deceased accuse Mr. Thibodeaux of nefarious activity regarding their divorce decree and her declaration that she would take him back to court.”
Brandon interrupted. “We’ve left messages for Anna Belle’s attorney to return our calls as soon as he’s able, so this isn’t confirmed yet. Additionally, several others that were present in the Esplanade Avenue house have been presented as possible suspects in the investigation.”
Danielle narrowed her eyes. “Yes, this is true. We will be bringing in those persons for another round of questioning immediately.” She turned back to the commander. “When we went to question Mr. York and Mr. Thibodeaux, we learned Mr. Thibodeaux was out of town, having left the day prior to the homicide. No one in his business knew of his whereabouts, nor had he answered or returned his assistant’s multiple phone calls.”
Again, Brandon interrupted. “He was on vacation, one he had scheduled months ago, according to his assistant and business partner, Colton York. Most people go on vacation to get away from their job and don’t check in.”
Danielle continued, ignoring him. “We met with Mr. Thibodeaux last evening upon his return into town. He claims his cell phone was lost on Thursday morning in St. Francisville, which is his excuse for why he didn’t answer or return calls. While he claims to have been in St. Francisville the entire time, including the time of death of the deceased, it appears he has no verifiable alibi for the hours leading up to her homicide.”
“We just received his initial information and haven’t had time to check out details yet to see if anything is verified.” Brandon glared at Danielle. This went beyond animosity because Grayson hadn’t called her sister back after their blind date. How could she throw Grayson to the wolves like this?
“We requested Mr. Thibodeaux come with us to the station to answer some questions, but he refused.”
“He declined to come tonight. He’d just learned of his ex-wife’s death. He volunteered to come in Tuesday morning.” Brandon sat on the edge of the seat. “He worked here as a consultant for a couple of years. He knows he’s a suspect. He’s coming and speaking to us in two days.”
“We’ve just started to investigate, sir.” Danielle closed the app on her phone.
Commander Ellender hesitated as he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his desk. “Well documented, Detective. I’m going to allow you two to stay on the case. With one condition.”
Just when Brandon was ready to let the relief wash over him. There was always something. “Sir?”
Commander Ellender met Brandon’s even gaze with a steel one of his own. “Despite the seniority order, Detective Witz is lead detective on this case.”
THREE
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Grayson tossed the now-empty duffel into the closet and headed to the front door. If it was Brandon and Danielle again…
He jerked open the door to find Pam standing on his welcome mat.
“Are you okay?” In typical Pam fashion, she pushed past him into the foyer and faced him with her hands on her hips. “Why haven’t you answered your phone? I’ve been calling practically nonstop all weekend. I was about ready to send a search party out for you.”
As much as he would’ve thought he didn’t feel up for company, Grayson was happy to see Pam. Her straightforwardness and inability to gloss things over was just what he needed. “Come on in.” He led the way to the kitchen and pulled the coffeemaker from under the cabinet. “I haven’t answered my phone because I dropped it into the creek at the golf course on Thursday morning.”
“Oh.” Pam perched on one of the barstools at the kitchen island. Silence filled the space between them until she cleared her throat. “Are you okay?”
He glanced over his shoulder to make eye contact with his friend. “I’m not sure yet.” He finished putting the coffee on to brew and moved to lean on the counter opposite Pam. “The police told me Anna Belle died from anaphylactic shock, but that’s pretty much it.” Just saying the word died in relation to his ex-wife still sounded like a punch line to a very bad joke in extremely poor taste. “Tell me what happened.”
Pam shook her head. “I don’t understand either. After you left, we finished everything we needed. Everything was set before they arrived on Wednesday afternoon. That evening everything we’d designed went off without a hitch—the cooking mishap, pool scare, roofing—all of it right down to the fire truck response.”
Just as he’d predicted. Except he hadn’t been able to foresee Anna Belle dying.
A pang tightened in his chest as soon as he finished the thought. It was still hard to accept she was gone.
“Are you sure you want to hear this?” Pam’s voice softened, which was unusual for her.
No, he didn’t want to hear details of Anna Belle’s death, but he needed to hear them. He had to know what happened. “Yeah, I think I need to.”
Pam hesitated, then nodded before continuing. “Thursday morning, everything was right on schedule. The props were left as planned while they were having breakfast, and everyone followed instructions. The two teams came up with their campaigns and turned them in to Mr. Dubois before lunch. The group ate together, and as you had predicted in the planning, it was one tense meal.” Pam smiled. “It amused me to see everyone forcing themselves to act normal when they were just waiting for Mr. Dubois to judge which team’s campaign was better.”
Yes, he’d banked on their competitive edge in creating a campaign to spin a politician’s potentia
l scandal into a positive light. With limited resources and a short time limit.
Pam kept on as the coffee moved into its final brewing stages. “Both teams reported for the escape room. Anna Belle and Hugh escaped before the two-and-a-half-hour limit, but Georgia and Franklin didn’t.”
“They didn’t?” He hadn’t seen that one coming. He’d thought both teams would’ve made it out. Barely, but successfully. Grayson turned away from Pam and pulled two mugs from the cabinet.
“Nope. They didn’t make it, so we had to unlock their door at four.”
That was the contingency plan he’d written of course, but he never thought they’d have to implement it. “Vic did the unlocking, right? And no one saw him?” The game would fall apart if anyone realized everything was part of the game. He poured the coffee, took the cups to the island, and set them down before moving the sugar bowl in front of Pam.
“Yes, Vic unlocked the door and no one saw him, just as you’d instructed.”
“Good.” He opened the refrigerator, pulled out the milk, and set it in front of his assistant. He took a sip of his coffee, nearly scalding his tongue.
Pam dumped one, then two, then three heaping spoons of sugar into her cup. “Everyone was supposed to be in their rooms, freshening up for dinner at four thirty. It was about four fifteen when Georgia Vescot started screaming upstairs. Vic and I checked and saw Georgia standing in the doorway of Anna Belle’s room. We all rushed to find out what was going on, and we saw Anna Belle on the floor, unconscious. We called 911, and Mr. Dubois administered CPR until the ambulance arrived.”
That didn’t make sense. Anna Belle knew her body and knew the symptoms of an immediate onset of her allergic reactions. She knew how to treat herself. She would’ve reached for her Epi immediately. “How did Anna Belle look to you?”
“Very still.” Pam took a sip of her coffee, then added another spoon of sugar.
Grayson just couldn’t wrap his mind around what happened to Anna Belle. “Was she flushed? Anything out of the ordinary?”
“She was more pale than flushed, although she had some swollen spots on her neck. Maybe a couple on her face and arms. I don’t know really.”
“Like welts?”
Pam nodded and poured the milk all the way to the mug’s rim. “Kinda. Now that I think about it, she looked like she’d been stung by a couple of bees or something.” Finally finished doctoring her coffee, she put the milk back into the refrigerator. “The paramedics said it looked like she had an allergic reaction.”
“Was her EpiPen beside her?” Maybe she’d grabbed her shot, but her symptoms had come on too quickly and she hadn’t been able to inject herself. That was the only thing that made sense to him.
“No, not that I saw, and I stayed there until they rolled her from the room into the ambulance.”
Where was her Epi? It was always in her makeup bag in her purse. Always. No matter what, she always had it on her. Or her backup in her toiletry case? She never traveled overnight without that.
“Hers is a food allergy. Had she eaten or drank anything during the last bit of the game?” Although, her reaction was immediate, so she would’ve had to have ingested cherries or cherry juice just before her symptoms appeared.
Pam shook her head. “They were getting ready for dinner. They were only gone for about fifteen, twenty minutes, tops.” She took another drink of her coffee. “Unless she had something in her room, which I guess she had to have had.”
Anna Belle would never knowingly have anything with cherries in her room. Ever. People with serious allergies made sure to keep their allergens at bay if at all possible. Anna Belle was strict about it.
“Was there anything in her room that looked out of the ordinary?”
“Not that I saw, but, Gray, I wasn’t looking. I didn’t pay attention. I didn’t think I needed to.” She took another sip, then set her mug on the counter, tracing the rim with her finger. “It’s no secret that I didn’t like Anna Belle, but I’m sorry for you. I know that despite everything she’s done, you probably still have some sort of feelings for her.”
If only it were that simple.
Grayson pulled one of the barstools around the island and sat. “It’s not that I have feelings for her, exactly.” He searched for the words to put to his feelings. “It’s more like I miss who she once was—who we both were when we first met and fell in love. I grieve our marriage.” He shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I despise what she did to me, to us, but I know I need to let it all go and forgive her. It’s just so hard.”
“You’re a better person than I am, that’s for sure.” Pam pushed off the stool and poured herself another cup of coffee, then topped off Grayson’s. “Because after all we learned about her … well, it’s not like we uncovered anything redeeming about her personality. My opinion of her went down further, something I didn’t even think possible.” She grabbed the milk from the fridge and poured.
He was having a problem with what they’d found out too. Still. Probably always would. He took a sip of coffee and redirected the conversation. “After the ambulance left, what happened?”
Pam stirred her coffee absentmindedly as she sat. “Everyone was upset of course. And nobody really knew what to do. The employees of Deets PR had no idea who we were and why we were in the house. We didn’t know what to say either. Tim Dubois mumbled something about we were there with the house or some such lame explanation.” She took a drink. “After he did that, he left. The entire mood of the house was very subdued. Some went to the hospital, some didn’t say where they were going, just left. You could tell a couple of them were pretty put out that we were there.”
Which is what he’d warned his partner about when they were initially contracted for this job. People didn’t like being fooled, even if they did sign a waiver. If they didn’t even realize they were playing a game, of course they’d be upset to find out they were in the middle of one. “Who all said they were going to the hospital?”
“Tim Dubois and his wife left immediately behind the ambulance. Hugh Istre. Colton.”
Interesting. Grayson took a sip of coffee. “You know the police opened an investigation, right?”
She nodded. “They questioned all of us.”
At least he hadn’t been singled out. “When?”
“Yesterday afternoon. Colton called me yesterday and told me to expect them. As per their request, he’d given them the names and addresses of everyone who’d been there and had been involved with the game.”
“They were here tonight.”
“I figured. That’s why I just kept coming by, driving by your house until I saw your truck. I tried to call you to tell you, to let you know.”
“Yeah.” He stared into his dark coffee for a moment. “I’m pretty certain they suspect foul play.”
“Really?”
“Brandon is a homicide detective. He was the one who came today. It could’ve been just courtesy because I’d worked with him.”
She shook her head. “No, it was him and his partner who came to talk to me.” She swung her foot slowly, letting it graze the stool’s rung with every pass. “I should’ve picked up on that, considering the questions they asked.”
“Like what?”
“How much did I help you create the game? Who at our company had access to the information sent from Deets PR?” She shrugged. “Was there anything unusual about this game from the others we create? Those types of questions.”
Grayson’s mouth went dry. Those questions definitely suggested the police thought this wasn’t just a tragic accident. They also suggested that the police were looking for suspects. And everyone knew the ex was always the primary suspect.
“They really think someone did this to her, don’t they?” Pam’s question echoed in his mind. “They said they’d be in touch for further questions.”
“They must have something they didn’t tell me about.” He nodded slowly, going over both Brandon and Danielle’s mannerisms. Their exac
t words. “And I think they’re considering me their main suspect.”
“No way!”
“Think about how it looks to them, Pam. I’m a recent ex-husband. No denying our divorce was messy. I create a game that she died during, while I was conveniently out of town.”
Her eyes widened. “But you would never—”
“No, but they have to follow the information.” He turned and grabbed the coffeepot, then filled both their mugs. “So now I need to back up and go over everything with a fine-tooth comb.”
“I’ll help you.”
He smiled. Everything about Pam was just so open and honest. And loyal. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t.” She took a long drink. “Where do we start?”
No sense arguing—it wouldn’t do any good. To be honest, he didn’t really want to go this alone. Besides, Pam was a stickler for details, so she’d notice things he might miss. He couldn’t afford to miss anything. His mind wrapped around what he knew. “Okay, everyone went to their rooms to get ready for dinner about four fifteen.”
“Four fifteen, four twenty.”
“You heard the scream….”
Pam nodded. “Georgia screamed like a banshee, so everyone naturally ran to the room. Anna Belle was laid out on the floor.”
He could always get the exact time from when 911 was called. “Then what?”
“Tim Dubois pushed Georgia out of the way, felt Anna Belle’s neck, hollered for someone to call 911, then began performing CPR.”
